Snack

So I dreamed that I was on the top floor of some sort of public area - it could have been a mall, or a museum. There was a big stairwell that curved around in a spiral, at least six or seven storeys going down.

Mum and Dad were with me, and they'd given me a snack: Mediterranean style fried red peppers and sun dried tomatoes, chopped fine and sandwiched between two Jacob's Cream Crackers. I'd taken a bite, and I heard this screech.

I looked across, and it was apparently Theresa May, screaming at me for eating something - the first thing I'd eaten in eighteen hours. Apparently, I was letting her down by breaking a fast which she'd been organising for me and several others, to lose weight, which frankly was news to me.

So as I watched, Theresa May rushed down the stairs, still screaming, and she was honestly having a nervous breakdown, going by the sounds of her, all because I dared to be eating some actual food.

I can't tell you what my snack tasted like, because the alarm went off. But I imagine it would have tasted scrumptious.


Not cricket.